


Song For a Winter's Night

by cinelitchick



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Intimacy, M/M, Marking, Post-Season/Series 03, Sexual Humor, Touching, accidentalsex9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 01:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinelitchick/pseuds/cinelitchick
Summary: It's Christmas Eve. What had been a joke between Will and Hannibal becomes more than either expected.





	Song For a Winter's Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of prompt No. 9 in the Accidental Hannigram Sex Project over on Tumblr: “You are joking about something and I took you seriously” sex.

Hannibal Lecter walked into the living room to find Will Graham standing in the center, hands in the front pockets of his trousers. On the sofa beside Will were two bags filled with what appeared to be decorations for a tree. He was illuminated from behind by the soft glow of the white twinkle lights that rested on each bough of the tree they had decorated only a few days ago. The Nordmann fir had arrived freshly cut and ready to stand tall in their house, which was in an undisclosed location.

This wasn’t their first Christmas together, but it was the first they could actually enjoy as a couple. Previous years had seen them recovering from their post-fall injuries off an eroding cliff following their interaction with Francis Dolarhyde, aka The Great Red Dragon; hunting for their private festive feast; traveling in order to stay ahead of various law enforcement agencies; and separating when there stood a very real chance of them getting caught had they remained a unit.

Now they could breathe. It had been quiet for months. As the holidays approached, they celebrated them happily as a couple. Tree trimming, homemade hot chocolate, carols on the theremin and harpsichord (Hannibal had recently reacquired some of what of he considered to be the more homier touches to their abode) and a warm, cozy fire in the hearth. It was all very Norman Rockwell by way of Edward Gorey.

“What’s this?” Hannibal asked as he entered the room to get a better look at what Will had bought during his excursion into into town that afternoon. It was evening now; the sun had set a few hours prior.

“Provisions,” Will said in a teasing manner.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. He pulled out boxes of tinsel, ribbon, lights. At the bottom of one bag were multiple gift boxes containing clip-on earrings. As he surveyed Will’s shopping, Hannibal glanced at him before his eyes shifted to the right.

Will loved watching him work out a problem. Is this what Dr. Watson had felt like while observing Sherlock Holmes all those years?  _ Ah, _ he thought as Hannibal’s expression became one of clarity.  _ By jove, I think he’s got it. _

“Will, that was not a serious conversation we had while decorating the tree.”

“I know.”

Another glance at the decorations before he brought his light brown eyes to rest on his beloved. “Your shopping says otherwise.”

“Are you saying you’re not interested?” It was less of a question and more of a challenge. There were few things Will liked more than pressing his advantage with Hannibal.

“Quite the opposite.” A wicked glint found a home in his eyes. It appeared more often now that he was free to be — and be himself  — with young William. “I cannot think of a more enticing way to spend this snowy Christmas Eve.”

The heat from Will’s blue eyes was matched by his mate’s. Sex was a daily part of their routine, regularly getting it on morning, noon and night. However, for reasons they hadn’t fathomed, their kink game had been on the wane of late. So when their rather innocent banter grew into something more in Will’s brain, it seemed a waste of an opportunity to just ignore it.

  
  


_ In the dark glow of the living room, Hannibal and Will stood back to admire their handiwork. After two hours, their seven-foot Nordmann fir was handsomely decorated with only the finest ornaments, tastefully strung lights and just a trace amount of tinsel. It was a masterpiece. _

_ Will caught how much Hannibal was enjoying the sight of this tree being what it was meant to be. Just as he had savored Will’s evolution into the man he had become. An ache punched its way out from deep within Will. So powerful was it, he took a sharp intake of breath. _

_ Hannibal’s attention was immediately drawn to Will. “Was is it?” _

_ He had a hand on Will’s chest and the other on his back. “Are you having trouble breathing?” _

_ The note of concern was touching, but unnecessary.  _

_ “I’m fine. Just had a reaction is all.” _

_ “To the tree?”  _

_ It was quite beautiful, yes. An intense reaction such as what Will had was unlikely, however. Especially for him. _

_ “No. Not to the tree, per se.” _

_ “To me?” _

_ Will chuckled. Hannibal seemed so surprised Will would be taken by anything he did or experienced. They both knew each found the other fascinating. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here enjoying their life after all these years. “Yes, to you. Always to you.” _

_ “Tell me.” He stared at Will with the same intensity he did when they had first met in Jack Crawford’s office. That moment felt as if it had happened simultaneously millennia ago and yesterday. _

_ “The way you gazed up so beguilingly at our tree, enticed by its allure and promise of the impossible, made me think you would bed it if you had the chance.” _

_ “And this shocked you?” _

_ “Dendrophilia  _ **_is_ ** _ rather shocking. Even for one as open-minded as myself.” _

_ The corner of Hannibal’s mouth quirked. He once again looked up at the tree. “It  _ **_is_ ** _ stunning.” A glance at Will. “And you how I feel about beautiful things.” _

_ “Indeed.” _

  
  
  


“So you want me to trim you like this tree and take you to bed?” Hannibal asked. 

He knew Will was asking for more than this. His mood had been altered of late. The desire was still there; the hunger. Will craved more yet asked for nothing. Until now. Hannibal was intrigued. 

“I want you to transform me into something beautiful.” There was a defiance in his countenance that couldn’t mask the self-doubt.

“And then?”

The corner of Will’s mouth quirked. “One step at a time. I’m not convinced even  _ you  _ can pull off this particular magic trick.”

Will Graham was the most beautiful person in the world to Hannibal. He had thought so since the moment they had met. A dull ache in his chest manifested when he heard Will’s request. He thought Will’s confidence extended to every facet of his being. That he had been wrong about this, embarrassed Hannibal. He had failed his husband. It’s a mistake he would not make twice.

“Strip.”

Will’s breath caught at Hannibal’s command. He removed his clothing without a word. His eyes locked onto the pair opposite him, unsure of what would come next. They followed Hannibal as he inspected the man before him; taking in every inch of WIll. He had never felt more like an Italian marble statue on display in all his life.

“May I?” Hannibal inquired, with a hand extended.

A nod of approval was given.

He ran his hand along the slope of Will’s neck; down his torso, gliding it around his waist to his back. Standing behind Will, he allowed both hands to cascade slowly from his shoulders. Hannibal gripped the cheeks of Will’s ass so hard, a gasp escaped from their owner’s lips. He pressed himself against Will, who could feel his husband’s erection through his tailored trousers.

Hannibal gracefully took Will’s hand in his, raising it to his lips. He kissed each finger and thumb tenderly. A flick of his tongue on each middle knuckle made Will moan. He snaked his other arm around Will’s waist, holding him to his body while he worked his way down Will’s arm.

His body trembled under Hannibal’s touch. Will had fallen willingly off that cliff (both literally and emotionally) when it came to his love for the man for whom he had been to hell and back. Regret was something he never had when it came to Hannibal. He was in love with the devil. They were two fallen angels who had found their way to each other.

Lips ghosted the base of Will’s neck; a respite after the shoulder bite. Hannibal had marked him. Will could feel the small trickle of blood slide down his skin, which was now electrified. A current ran through him as his lover switched sides: taking up Will’s other hand while his opposite arm now kept Will against him. When his mouth reached the shoulder, Hannibal once again bit down. He lapped up the blood as it pooled.

His face buried in his Will’s brown curls, he breathed in his scent. Gone was the atrocious aftershave his beloved wore for years. It had been replaced with a clean, earthy scent that was Mother Nature-approved. Hannibal had never bought Will anything to mask his natural smell. Will never wanted anything to hide who he was, not when he had finally found and accepted himself after all these years.

Hannibal came back round to face Will, his hand never leaving Will’s skin. Both were hard; their erections brushing against each other as Hannibal stood only a few inches from him. Fingers explored his neck, followed by Hannibal’s mouth. Another mark was made above Will’s left breast. He moaned loudly; the pain so exquisite. Falling to his knees, Hannibal gripped Will’s hips and guided his tongue over the incision he made that fateful night in his kitchen.

Will was in great danger of swooning. He didn’t dare touch Hannibal for fear it would overload his senses. His swollen cock was leaking precome. Everything had been so intimate, so erotic. He noticed Hannibal had not once fingered him or stroked his cock. 

This hadn’t been about sex. 

This had been about Will.

Looking up at him while on his knees, Hannibal asked, “How do you feel, Will?”

There was a pause while he struggled to find the word, his body taken over by a storm of emotions. Then, clarity prevailed.

“Beautiful,” he breathed. 

Will had forgotten what it had felt like. That day in Jack’s office, despite his snark, he had felt it for the first time. He hadn’t realized it then, of course. It wasn’t for some time till he finally had worked it out. One lonely night in his cell at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, it floated in like one of those flotation devices used in swimming pools.

More than once since, Hannibal had made him believe he was, in his own way, a piece of art: one of a kind and more attractive because of it. Now, as he stared into the caramel eyes of the man he quite happily said “I do” to just over a year ago, he believed it once more. Will didn’t understand why he ever doubted it. He was sure Hannibal would explain it to him should he ever truly wanted to know.

Hannibal smiled.

“I would hate to see all that creativity go to waste.” He glanced at the baubles and tinsel strewn about the sofa. “The clip-on earrings as nipple clamps are particularly inspired.”

A heat bloomed within Will, starting at his neck and rising to his cheeks. “Inspiration can come in the damndest places. I was particularly looking forward to using the tinsel.”

Hannibal rose to his feet. “I have a few ideas of my own regarding that.”

This received a raised eyebrow in response. “That’s all well and good, Dr. Lecter, but this isn’t your session. It’s mine.”

Nothing turned Hannibal on more than dominant Will. The lust in his eyes could have incinerated them both.

“Where shall we begin?”


End file.
